


In Sickness and in Health

by CreativeSweets



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Digital Art, M/M, Protective Phichit Chulanont, Sick Katsuki Yuuri, Sickfic, now with art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 01:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13447299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeSweets/pseuds/CreativeSweets
Summary: Yuuri coughed and sighed when he was given a pointed look from his roommate.“You really should—”“I’m not sick,” Yuuri interrupted, clearing his throat, “I’ve never been one to get sick. It’s just that the dorm air is dry, and you know I sleep with my mouth open.”...In which Yuuri gets the flu and poor Phichit has to deal with a delirious roommate.(NOW WITH ART!)





	In Sickness and in Health

Growing up Yuuri never was a sick child. He was always the one in the family who took care of his sister, mother, and father when they all inevitably got sick from all the people coming through the inn. Mari gave him shit for it the year when she was delirious from the flu, bedridden and struggling to sit up. _Why am I not surprised that you’re not sick,_ she had said, _you’re going to really get it one of these years, I swear._ If only she knew it would happen when he was halfway across the world.

Yuuri coughed and sighed when he was given a pointed look from his roommate.

“You really should—”

“I’m not sick,” Yuuri interrupted, clearing his throat, “I’ve never been one to get sick. It’s just that the dorm air is dry, and you know I sleep with my mouth open.”

Phichit scrunched up his face and his heavy stare made Yuuri look away towards the wall.

“Phichit, please—" Yuuri started, begrudgingly finding his eyes meeting the other’s, only to have the words he was about to say die on his tongue at the look of anguish and concern on the other.

He sighed again and dropped his gaze to his fiddling hands in his lap.

“I suppose I can go see someone if my cough doesn’t go away by this weekend,” he mumbled.

“You’d better,” Phichit warned, cracking a sly smile, “I’d hate to have to find another roommate before the year’s out.”

Yuuri huffed and allowed a small smile to form. Phichit was always looking after him, albeit in a loud and annoying way. But Yuuri wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

* * *

 

By the next morning the fever had set in. Yuuri, bundled in his thickest sweater and sweatpants, shivered under his covers. He didn’t know what time it was, light was just starting to pour through the cracks in his curtains. He pulled his blanket over him tighter and willed this terrible feeling to go away. _Crap_ , he thought, _maybe I really am getting sick._ He knew that Phichit would come searching for him, it was Thursday and they had practice. Groaning, he resigned himself to his fate and found some strength to sit up, shivering as the blankets pooled around his hips.

He was just pulling on his glasses when the faint knock on his door signaled Phichit’s arrival. The Thai’s head popped into the room and immediately his smile fell.

“Dude,” he started, “when Mari said that your luck would run out I didn’t think she meant for you to literally become Death.”

Yuuri barely managed to get a half-hearted glare to send his way.

“Alright so you’re definitely not coming to practice with me this morning.”

Yuuri opened his mouth to protest this when another wave of chills had him pulling the blanket up and around him.

“I think,” Yuuri slurred, “I think I’ll go see someone today.”

Phichit looked surprised, mainly at the fact that Yuuri, inadvertently but still did, admit that he needed to go see someone. His eyebrows knit together and his teeth worried his bottom lip.

“I’ll go with you.”

“No, Phichit—”

“Yuuri, you’re really sick,” Phichit interrupted, “And if you think I’m going to let you go alone then you’re sorely mistaken.”

Yuuri groaned and decided to pull out the big guns. He tilted his head towards his chest and then looked up at Phichit through his eyelashes. In his sick state, the sweat beading on his forehead, the blush spreading evenly across his cheeks, and small tears forming at the corners of his eyes, he knew he looked every bit the pitiful thing he wanted to be.

“Phichit,” he started, Phichit looking very uncomfortable and decidedly _not_ looking at Yuuri’s face, “You need to practice so we can end up at the Grand Prix Final together.” Yuuri stopped, taking in a shaky breath, “Don’t you want to get there with me?” His voice cracking halfway through.

Phichit looked like he was in actual pain, torn between the duty of a loyal best friend and helping Yuuri get to the doctor’s, and as a dedicated skater with high ambitions.

“Are you _sure_ that you’ll be okay to get to the clinic?” Phichit asked.

Yuuri gave himself a mental high five, he knew he had Phichit right where he wanted.

“I think so, the clinic is only two blocks from here,” Yuuri reminded him, “And the pharmacy is only a block away from that if I need meds.”

Phichit glanced down at his phone.

“Ah! If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late.” Phichit took one last look at his beloved roommate, swaddled in layer after layer of blankets, and _where did all those blankets come from?_  then took a deep breath.

“Alright, Yuuri.”

Yuuri sighed, looking very relieved. The last thing he wanted was to have _his_ sickness get in the way of his best friend’s practice.

“But you better text me when you get there. And text me when you get back. And text—”

“I get it.”

Phichit took one last lingering look, and with a nod that seemed more directed at himself, he closed the door as he left.

Yuuri didn’t know how long he sat on his bed, staring at the door. He vaguely registered the _click_ of the front door closing. Eyes glazed over, he looked towards his phone and steeled himself. Was he really going to go out, alone, terribly sick, in the middle of October in Detroit? Yes, yes, he was. Because this sucked and he needed to get better, so _he_ could practice. Groaning again, his feet found purchase and he couldn’t have cared less what he threw on, so he could go out, barely remembering his keys in his zombie shuffle.

The walk to the doctor’s office was colder than the ice rink. Winds blew right through his thick jacket and he pulled his scarf tighter against his flush neck and face. After an uneventful doctor’s visit where, _Yes, you’re really sick. No, I don’t think you’ll die from it. Yes, it’s probably the flu. No, you shouldn’t go to an ice rink while you’re sick. Yes, you will recover,_ he found himself picking up his medications and swaying on his way back to the apartment. Unceremoniously he found himself shedding his outerwear, uncaring that he left a trail as he headed into the kitchen for a glass of water to take his meds with. He was sick, he could leave a mess. With the first dose of medicine in his system he barely remembered to take off his glasses as he flopped himself back onto his bed.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri was vaguely aware of the smell of takeout food as he stirred. How long had he been out? His head felt heavy, so he didn’t try to lift it up and grunted as he rolled over. Noticing how his small desk lamp was on, illuminating his otherwise dark room, he wondered if Phichit had checked in on him when he came back from practice and classes. Oh, yeah. He was supposed to text him. Whoops.

Phichit, as if summoned by Yuuri’s thoughts, appeared in the doorway with his hands on his hips, lips pursed.

“Yuuri Katsuki I know you’re awake now,” Phichit huffed, “and so you’re going to come out to the living room with me.”

Confusion must have been evident on his face because Phichit continued.

“When I came back after not hearing from you all practice, _thanks by the way,_ and found your medicine at the end of your trail of clothes, on the counter, I came in to check up on you,” Phichit explained with a sort of fond exasperation.

“Oh.”

“And so now I’m going to make you comfortable out in the family room where I’ve got some Chinese and The King and the Skater queued up.”

Silence grew as Phichit continued to look Yuuri up and down on his bed. What a sight he must look like, hair messed up from tossing and turning, the wind outside, and the sweat from his fever. Bags under his eyes and a deep crimson staining his cheeks all the way to his ears and no doubt down his chest as well. Clothes disheveled from the constant rearranging because _dammit_ if the fever didn’t make his skin crawl where the clothes touched him.

“Do you feel any better now with some meds in you?”

Yuuri contemplated this. He didn’t really feel as cold as he had this morning, the violent shivers making way for little tremors. His head still felt like it weighed a thousand pounds and like an elephant was sitting on his face and chest, but otherwise an improvement from this morning.

Yuuri gave a small nod, not trusting his voice with his throat scratchy and dry.

Phichit came to help Yuuri out of bed and there was a moment of panic heading out of the room when he slipped on the blankets that Yuuri had insisted come off the bed and into the family room with him. A small chuckle rose in Yuuri’s throat and Phichit huffed in embarrassment.

When Yuuri was all snuggled down in the couch looking like a very colorful mountain with only his head peeking out over the blankets surrounding him, he gave a grin towards Phichit.

“Thanks.”

Phichit gave him an answering grin, flopping down onto the couch next to him and putting an arm around him.

“Sure, sure,” he started, then pointed at himself with his free hand, “Best friend, remember? Taking care of you while you’re _literally_ unable to is pretty much in the job description.”

 

* * *

 

They lapsed into silence as the movie started. Phichit grabbed a takeout container and offered a bite out to Yuuri, who hoped his blush was well hidden beneath his already flush cheeks.

It wasn’t.

If Phichit noticed then he didn’t say anything, much to Yuuri’s relief. They fell into a rhythm of Phichit taking a bite after offering one to Yuuri, all the while humming along with the familiar music. Yuuri felt himself starting to nod off, and that’s when Phichit moved him off on him with a small noise of discontent rising from Yuuri.

“You should get more medicine in you before you go back to sleep.”

Yuuri grunted. Phichit could be such a mother hen.

“I don’t see you complaining about it,” Phichit said with a cheeky grin.

Oh, guess he said that out loud. Maybe the couch cushions would open and swallow him up.

Phichit laughed.

Yuuri ducked his head into the blankets to try and stop himself from saying anything else.

 

* * *

 

After successfully getting Yuuri back into bed with another dose of meds in him, Phichit turned to leave when Yuuri grabbed the hem of his shirt.

“Stay?” Yuuri pleaded, fever kicking up a notch as the meds hadn’t started to kick in yet, “I-if you want to, I mean, you don’t have to, you’ll probably just get sick if you stay near me,” Yuuri knew he was rambling, but he just couldn’t find himself to care at the moment. Phichit silenced him with a couple fingers to his lips. Yuuri looked up at his smiling face.

“Of course I’ll stay,” Phichit’s smile turning into something softer, “let me get ready for bed and I’ll be right back.”

Yuuri let out a sigh of relief and settled down into his bed. It wasn’t a big bed, but it’s not like him and Phichit haven’t slept in each other’s beds, homesickness making some nights harder than others. He remembers valiantly trying to stay awake until Phichit came back, but managed to fall into a light slumber, waking up momentarily when Phichit slid in next to him and under the blankets. Immediately, Yuuri scuttled up closer and laid his head on Phichit's shoulder. He felt Phichit hug an arm around his back while the fingers of his other hand deftly smoothing his hair out of his face. He ended up falling asleep to the hum of the opening song of The King and the Skater.

 

* * *

 

It was the ass crack of dawn when Phichit was startled awake by a thrashing Yuuri. He managed to avoid an arm to the face but couldn’t stop the foot to the shin. _Fuck he’s strong,_ Phichit winced. He’s definitely going to have a nice bruise there later. He pushed himself up on his elbows and took in the sight of a very flushed Yuuri who’s breathing was labored and face scrunched up in pain. Phichit’s heart broke. He never wanted to see his roommate in pain.

He thought back to yesterday, how the _last_ thing he wanted to do was go to practice, but, damn Yuuri and his doe eyes, he went anyways, a feeling of wrong settling over him throughout it all. When he took breaks he obsessively checked his phone every few seconds, practically vibrating with worry. Celestino took pity on him and didn’t push him to try his quads, and even let him go early with a ‘Tell Yuuri I hope he feels better soon.’ Phichit had never been so thankful in his life before. After practically sprinting back to their apartment he nearly broke his key with how forceful he was. He found Yuuri’s jacket and scarf strewn over the floor, and heading into the kitchen he found the medicine and took the time to carefully read the discharge papers from the clinic, of course Yuuri would get the _flu,_ and instructions for the medicine.

Thankful that he had the foresight to bring the medicine and some water into the room with him earlier, he shook Yuuri’s shoulders to try and rouse him.

Glazed over cinnamon orbs opened as small tears found purchase on his face.

“Phichit?” Yuuri’s hesitant voice sounded out.

Phichit screamed internally. How could someone be so _adorable_ even as they’re literally in the worst sort of pain. Phichit put on a small smile, hoping that since Yuuri woke up this would be easier.

“Hey,” he said in a small voice, “we should get some medicine in you, so you can feel better.”

Yuuri blinked.

“Yes?” Phichit asked, hesitant now at the sort of vacant look he was getting from his roommate.

“Why are you so pretty?” Yuuri stated in mild annoyance, “Seriously.”

Phichit choked. Where the _fuck_ did this come from? Phichit looked at the walls and to the numerous Viktor posters and knew that Yuuri found _Viktor_ attractive since he was like, twelve. But him? He never expressed anything like that in the couple of years of knowing him. Hell, when they had moved in together Phichit just thought that Yuuri was only gay for Viktor because _heaven_ knows he tried to make some moves on his older and very much attractive roommate. He was around when practically half the campus was trying to get with him. He just thought Yuuri wasn’t interested in any sort of relationship.

Yuuri shook Phichit out of his musings with a hand lightly placed on his cheek, a loving smile on his face.

“When you skate,” Yuuri started, slurring his words, “you’re just so beautiful. Command the ice like you’re the only one who can give it what it needs.”

Phichit stared at his roommate, surely Yuuri didn’t realize the double meaning to his words. The heated look he was giving Phichit was definitely because of the flu. Phichit opened his mouth to say something, _anything_ , but found fingers touching his lips.

“Don’t…Don’t speak,” Yuuri shushed him. Yuuri shakily sat up to be on the same level as Phichit, shoulders slumped. He leaned forward until they were sharing the same breath space.

Phichit swallowed, his mouth going dry. He shouldn’t let his friend, his _best_ friend, do anything while he was clearly this far gone. But as Yuuri’s fingers moved and were replaced with soft lips, he felt the last of his brain cells stutter and die. His fingers found Yuuri’s waist and he gave a small squeeze, getting a pleased hum out of him. Yuuri pulled back and had his hands on either side of his face, gaze roaming over his entire face which was flushed and his eyes wide with surprise, as if he were trying to commit it to memory.

Yuuri turned his gaze towards his most beloved poster of Viktor. Phichit followed his gaze, unable to do anything else but follow the beautiful man in front of him.

“You know,” Yuuri started, licking his lips subconsciously, “for so long Viktor was my ideal. My ideal figure skater, my ideal image, and my ideal…lover.” Yuuri trails off at the end, turning to look back at Phichit.

“But,” Yuuri continued, a small frown growing and a little crease in between his eyebrows forming, “he’s so far away, like a dream. An unobtainable one.” Yuuri huffs, “Like anyone like _him_ would want anything to do with someone like _me._ ”

Phichit had to stop this before Yuuri could continue. He _had_ to. So he did the only thing he could think of. He stopped Yuuri by pulling him into another kiss.

“Yuuri,” Phichit said reverently between kisses, “My Yuuri, you are so many leagues above him,” another kiss, “You have so much beauty and strength and you have no idea what you do to other people.” Another kiss, this time to his forehead. “There’s not a single person on this campus who wouldn’t _kill_ someone for just the opportunity to be with you.”

Yuuri stared at Phichit like he had three heads. “W-what?” His voice sounded small. Yuuri shook his head and shivered as his fever spiked further. “You misunderstand me, Phichit.”

Now it was Phichit’s turn to stare. _What?_

“Ever since you pulled that alarm prank on me I knew I couldn’t stop my feelings for you.”

The— _the alarm prank?!_

“Yuuri,” Phichit started, eyebrows knitting together and voice serious, “that was two weeks after we moved in together.”

Yuuri grinned, a toothy affair that had Phichit’s heart stuttering. Yuuri’s eyes glittering in the dark room with the small amount of light filtering in from outside.

_"I know."_

 

* * *

 

Yuuri woke up to an empty bed, light freely pouring from the window. He sat up, relived he could do that much without getting dizzy. He shoved all the blankets off him and stood, stretching a little. A note caught his attention on his nightstand.

_Yuuri,_

_I’m at practice, as usual. I made some rice porridge this morning for you._

_Just have to reheat it, or, you know, eat it cold like the monster you are._

_I’ll be back before I head to class, don’t forget to take your meds!_

_Peach_

Yuuri smiled. He had such a good friend. The thought of breakfast had him walking out to the kitchen with a spring in his step. Well, not really, but he wasn’t dragging his feet like he wanted to do. Humming his free skate song, he got his bowl of rice porridge and made his way to the kitchen table. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. One bowl turned into two, and two inevitably turned into two and a half, which had him glaring as though the other half of porridge personally insulted his family.

By now his sniffles turned into a literal river running down the back of his throat and he swore he could feel a grapefruit trying to pop out of his throat. _Oh right,_ Yuuri thought, _I need to take medicine._ This was surreal for the raven; usually it was _him_ who had to administer the meds. Sighing, he barely managed to open the bottle with his shaking hands. With the chills setting back in he got his fluffy comforter off his bed and dragged it out to the living room. He probably should let someone know he was _actually_ alive, but sleep had dug its claws into him and he found he couldn’t keep his eyes open, opting instead to cling to a pillow as he lay down on the couch.

 

* * *

 

Phichit found his attention wavering during practice, thinking about the previous night. He remembered the alarm prank in terrifyingly precise detail, because it was that prank that made Yuuri step his game up and ended up with Phichit losing half an eyebrow.

(“Yuuri.” Phichit said in a dead, monotone way as he stood in the bathroom. Snickers could be heard from the other room. “How am I supposed to get a good selfie when _one of my eyebrows is half missing?!_ ” Yuuri’s laughter echoed through the apartment. The sound made Phichit’s chest constrict.)

Celestino caught on quickly to his wandering mind, and unfortunately for Phichit, that meant he was going to _actually_ have to work on his programs. Thinking about Yuuri would have to wait until later.

Later, it turned out, happened to be when Phichit walked into the apartment and saw Yuuri becoming one with the couch. Shaking his head, he walked past and put his stuff away before coming back out and looking at the half-eaten porridge on the table. _At least he ate something,_ he thought, lifting the lid on the pot that was left on the stove, _at least he ate a whole lot of something._ He took a quick shower and made sure to leave a glass of water next to Yuuri’s glasses on the side table before making his way to class. He only had a couple this morning, nothing terrible should happen in the three hours he would be gone, Yuuri could just sleep it away.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri, in fact, could not just sleep it away.

Groaning, he rolled over and promptly fell off the couch with a thud. He tried to take a moment and remember _where_ he was, and how he got there, but that was soon forgotten to clutch the blankets closer to him and shiver as he wished his clothing didn’t physically hurt him. Silently he wished for whatever wrong doing he had done to just be done with after this. Karma and all that. What the hell had he even done in the first place? Maybe he had done something during a weekend out with Phichit. _It was definitely something you did during a weekend,_ a voice that sounded suspiciously like Phichit chimed unhelpfully.

Speaking of chimes. Yuuri registered that his phone was going off back in the bedroom. That’s right, he’s in the living room right now. The noise continued for a long while, longer than Yuuri thought his ringtone was. It stopped and Yuuri forgot that he had a phone again. Until it started chirping again. _God…dammit._ Shivering, he got up and fumbled his way into the bedroom and pawed at his phone until the noise stopped. Much better. He grabbed more of his blankets off the bed and put them all in the large pile in front of the couch and laid back down.

_“—there?”_

What.

Oh right, his phone. The one in his hand. Riiiight. Pushing a couple more buttons it finally went on speaker and he was able to hear a concerned Phichit.

_“You picked up so you’re still alive, so I just need you to tell me that you’re okay—just give me something.”_

Phichit sounded really concerned. He grunted. There was no need for dramatics.

_“Oh, thank god. Yuuri, are you still in the apartment?”_

What kind of question was that? _Was_ he still in the apartment? When had his eyes closed again? With reluctance he blinked open his eyes and glanced around and the fuzzy outlines of everything in their apartment.

“Y-yes? I’m pretty sure I am,”

_“Good. Don’t leave. I’ll be there soon, just stay put.”_

“Mmmm…” Yuuri trailed off, “You sound stressed.”

Phichit let an unamused bark of laughter out.

_“Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be there, and then we can talk.”_

“Sure thing ‘chit.”

 

* * *

 

Phichit wasn’t paying attention to his last class. There was only five minutes left and the professor was just droning on and on. He huffed and looked out the window, watching the cars whiz past. Nothing too exciting. Until a black SUV shot through with lights on, cars moving as the loud sirens blared. If that wasn’t strange enough, three cop cars were in hot pursuit. Absentmindedly he swiped through his phone until he landed on his live news app. Detroit did have an unusually high violent crime rate. One of the first lessons Ciao Ciao had taught them was how to act to _not_ get mugged if they were walking past sunset.

The biggest story there was about a hostage situation—Phichit’s heart stopped. It was at the little grocery store that was just across the street from the apartment. The one where Yuuri and him frequented. Where Yuuri would go in his sick state if there was a comfort food he wanted.

Phichit was calling Yuuri before he was even out of the classroom, only vaguely registering the noise from his fellow classmates and professor. _Pick up, pick up, pick up,_ Phichit prayed, _please just pick up._ It went to voicemail. Cursing, Phichit dialed again, already on the street headed towards the apartment. After an alarmingly long time there was a click that his call had been picked up.

“Yuuri!”

It was silent on the other end, he heard rustling noises and he hoped that was a good sign.

“Are you there?”

There was more silence and some more rustling. He was focused on trying to hear if there were any other noises on the line, almost running out into traffic from being distracted. His breath hitched, and he fought back tears.

“You picked up so you’re still alive, so I just need you to tell me that you’re okay—just give me something.”

There it was. A grunt. An indecipherable grunt, but one Phichit was so used to hearing.

“Oh, thank god.” Phichit could cry out of relief, “Yuuri are you still in the apartment?”

Please say yes.

_“Y-yes? I’m pretty sure I am.”_

He did not sound good, he sounded like he swallowed glass, but Phichit was too worried about him being alive than whether he missed his meds.

“Good. Don’t leave. I’ll be there soon, just stay put.”

_“Mmmm…You sound stressed.”_

The laugh that came out of him wasn’t amusement.

“Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be there, and then we can talk.”

Phichit was jaywalking and not caring, flipping off drivers as they honked at him. Even if he _wasn’t_ a college student and that insurance money _couldn’t_ pay off his student loans, he _had_ to get back to Yuuri, they could just _try_ to hit him.

_“Sure thing ‘chit.”_

He could not get back to the apartment fast enough.

 

* * *

 

Phichit almost cried when the apartment came into view. Along with a huge crowd of people, no less than six cop cars, and just as many news reporters. The whole block was taped off and there were officers every few feet making sure no one overstepped. He would normally be all over this, practically shoving people aside as he tries to capture the moment. But today he couldn't have cared less. He needed to see Yuuri. To _touch_ him and make sure he was okay. As he wormed his way through the edges of the crowd towards the tape near the corner of the apartment building, he was about to say _fuck it_ and dive under the tape and hope to get into the building before they tackle him, but it seemed that the maniac was subdued. Hopefully that meant that he could weasel his way past the tape and into the apartment.

“E-excuse me, officer?” Phichit stuttered out.

“Yes?”

“Uhm…” Phichit started, “That's my apartment building,” he pointed, “and I need to go make sure my _very sick_ roommate is alright.” Phichit hoped he made his point clear.

“Do you have any proof? Can I see your ID?”

Phichit’s heart stuttered. Did he have anything that proved he lived there…? Maybe his keys had an identifying mark? He could only hope. He wordlessly took out his wallet and keys.

Handing over his ID, Phichit said a little _here you go._

The police officer certainly took his sweet time with his ID. Oh wait, Phichit gave him his _Thailand_ ID. Quickly, he pulled out his school ID and handed that over too with a little _sorry, force of habit._

Mr. Policeman scrutinized him something fierce, hard eyes that clearly were trying to see if he was bullshitting him. It made Phichit sweat just a little bit more and hope his small fidgeting wasn't too obvious, or, if it was, that it was an indication of how young, innocent, or whatever that would get him through those doors that were just so _close._

“Alright Mr. Chulanont, I'll take you over to the front door.”

Phichit nodded, taking back his IDs and shoving them haphazardly into his wallet. He mechanically walked, back ramrod straight. With the policeman hovering, Phichit entered the code to the front door and walked into the lobby, nodding his thanks to the police officer. It took all of his willpower to calmly walk the few feet to the stairwell. There was no way he was using the elevator. _Fuck that._ He couldn't just run inside with the police staring at him, so as soon as the door clicked shut after him in the stairwell, he was taking the stairs two at a time. To the third floor. He was thankful it wasn't the seventh floor or something just as ungodly.

Jamming his key into the lock, Phichit opened the apartment door. It was...oddly silent. He dropped his bag and shoes at the door and wandered further in.

“Yuuri?”

Silence.

_Ah,_ he thought, _he's probably asleep then. Probably for the best._

And there the man of the hour was. Wrapped in at least four different blankets. And that red and gold one was _definitely_ his. He’d recognize his King and the Skater blanket anywhere. Phichit sighed fondly. At least the blanket was being used for a noble cause. He bent down and picked Yuuri’s phone off the ground and placed it on the side table, then sat down on the floor next to his head. He tucked some stray hairs from Yuuri’s face behind his ear. What? Yuuri’s sick and he's only a man. A very _weak_ man when it came to his best friend. Who last night decided to confess his love to him in a sickness fueled fever. So in other words, a typical Yuuri move.

Phichit continued to stroke Yuuri’s hair away from his face and noted the flush of his cheeks and heat coming from him. His fever was back. He huffed. Did Yuuri forget to take meds while he was gone? Once again, a typical Yuuri move. Well, it would be if Yuuri actually got sick on a regular basis. Honestly, he's like friggin’ Superman, and this flu is his kryptonite. Does that make him Yuuri’s Lois Lane? His head hurt.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri woke up to a frigid wasteland that no amount of layers he was bundled in could help. Groaning, he opened his eyes and attempted to figure out where he was. The whole room was tilted sideways and he was pretty sure he was on the floor. Rolling over he was met with the side of the couch. Yep, definitely on the floor. Fortunately though, his little noises caused his roommate, his wonderful, talented, simply _amazing_ roommate to come into his field of view at his feet. He grinned lopsidedly up at Phichit.

“How are you feeling?”

What a strange question. Did Phichit mean physically, or emotionally? Yuuri was staring at him trying to determine just exactly _what_ he was feeling. It was astronomically hard, what with the world still kinda tilted and the fact he really couldn't focus on much asides from the cold that _somehow_ was seeping into his bones. He apparently took too long because before he knew it, Phichit was much closer, crouching down near him. Yuuri saw the concern written on his face.

“Do you want some medicine, Yuuri?” Phichit, the angel, asked.

Yuuri’s eyes fluttered closed and he hummed a non-committal sound. Everything was going to be just fine. His angel was near and would take care of everything. He untangled one of his arms from the twisted blankets and reached out to grab hold of Phichit. His hand found the top of a bare foot, and absentmindedly he started stroking the exposed skin.

Phichit was screaming internally. _God fucking dammit Yuuri!_ His smile wavered a bit and he hoped Yuuri couldn’t feel his heart that was threatening to beat right out of his chest. _Yuuri needs his medication...but he’s just too damn tempting without it._ Phichit sighed. His life clearly was so very hard. He had to give up _this_ with Yuuri so he could get better. It wouldn’t be nearly as hard if Yuuri would just stop petting his foo— _oh my god why is his hand coming up my leg?!_

“Phichit.”

“Hmm?” He responded, not trusting himself because anything more would just end up as pterodactyl screeches, he’s sure of it.

“I think that you should come snuggle with me,” Yuuri giggled, trying to open up his death trap of blankets to make enough room for the both of them.

Phichit could only stare as a crease formed on Yuuri’s brow and his lips went out in a small pout when he struggled to get free from the fluffy prison. Phichit finally took pity and started to help untangle him from the collection of blankets.

“Yuuri,” Phichit started as he grabbed his blanket and tugged on it, “did you go into my room to get this blanket?”

“... _maybe?_ ”

Phichit threw him a look.

“I'm not mad, in fact it's wholly unfair and adorable that you did it.”

If Yuuri’s cheeks could flush anymore they would have. He made a small noise close to what his hamsters make and looked down at his hands.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Phichit tried.

“Mmm...sure,” Yuuri agreed, “I'm not sure what I want to watch so you can pick.”

King and the Skater it is then.

Phichit queued it up and turned around, in a way that even Ciao Ciao would be proud of, and dove into the blankets with Yuuri. They ended up with Phichit laying against the couch arm with Yuuri slotted between his legs, back to chest.

_I can handle this,_ Phichit thought desperately, _he can't do too much in his current position. I just have to be careful._

This fragile peace shattered before even the first opening song was through. Yuuri, Phichit decided, was going to be the death of him. Because apparently Yuuri decided that he was going to turn on his side and then grip his shirt while _nuzzling_ his chest. Phichit hoped he couldn't feel his heart. Phichit himself really couldn't feel it. If it wasn't for the thump-thump drumming in his ears he would have said he died. Phichit was in deep. He struggled to turn his attention back to the movie, vainly hoping Yuuri would as well. Why did he not give Yuuri his meds? Oh yeah, because he's entirely selfish, and this was just going to be his few self-indulgent hours of Yuuri-focused-solely-on-him Time.

“ _Ne,_ Phichit.”

“Hm?” Phichit said, resigning himself to not watching the movie.

Yuuri had pushed himself up, propping himself up on his elbows on his chest, giving Phichit a wonderful view of his face and those half-lidded eyes. He saw those eyes flicker over his face, and linger on his lips, before darting up to meet his eyes. A huge grin slowly worked its way over Yuuri’s face and Phichit’s breath caught. _How can someone so sick be so beautiful at the same time?! What am I saying, he’s always like this, sickness or no._

“I think I could get used to you like this,” Yuuri finally ended up saying.

“Like—like what?” Phichit stammered.

“You,” Yuuri _purred,_ leaning in closer towards him, lips a hair's width away from his ear, “underneath me.”

Phichit choked.

“I—uhm,” he stuttered unintelligently, brain short circuiting.

Yuuri then started to nibble on his ear and Phichit ascended, his whole body shivering. _Holy shit._

“Warm me up, Phichit?” Yuuri whispered, voice full of intent.

That’s when Phichit decided to check back in. Because Yuuri, in fact, did _not_ need to be warmed up. His fever was doing a magnificent job of that. His fever. Guilt chewed its way into Phichit and he sighed and pushed them to sit on the couch. He tried not to get pulled in by Yuuri’s small pout— _good GOD those lips—_ and thrust the glass of water into his hands, getting some of the medicine from the side table.

Only after the meds were gone, and a whole glass and a half of water, did Phichit allow Yuuri to fall back onto him. This time it was much more tame, with Yuuri shivering and Phichit rubbing soothing circles on his back, whispering encouragements in Thai that his mother and grandmother used to say to him when he was sick.

Once the sun set Phichit coerced Yuuri back into his bed with another round of medication. He was determined to not fall victim to his sickly wiles. He hoped.

Thankfully, the only issue that arose the next day (and boy, was he happy it was the weekend) was the incessant stream of japanese that came out of Yuuri that Phichit had no clue how to even _begin_ to translate. He prayed that the worst of Yuuri’s sickness would fade after today, he didn’t really want to walk into Yuuri’s room only to see him crying and stroking one of his Victor posters and then sobbing louder when he noticed him. Again.

By Sunday morning Yuuri appeared consistently coherent, albeit a little rough around the edges. His fever had broken and all he really had was a stuffy nose and the sore throat still. Phichit mourned the loss of Sassy Yuuri that had managed to rekindle his burning crush. That had to get addressed though, even if it ended up with Yuuri being even more embarrassed and Phichit’s heart even more broken. He decided to wait until Yuuri stumbled out of his room to get some light breakfast.

“Hey,” He said softly.

“Hey Peach.”

“I take it you’re feeling better?”

“You could say that,” Yuuri started, yawning loudly before continuing, “I’m actually remembering things that are happening now, so I’d say that’s an improvement.”

Ah. Well this was a good segue then. Good. Great. Just _peachy._

“On that note,” Phichit started.

“Oh no…” Yuuri groaned.

“Oh yes.”

“Did I end up doing something?”

Yuuri took Phichit’s silence and small smile as a definitive _yes._

“Right,” He rubbed the back of his neck, “Well then, what happened?”

Phichit opened his mouth, then promptly closed it. He had _no clue_ how to even begin. How did one say _while you were sick you accidentally confessed your love for me over your long-time cherished idol and kissed me and continually tried to sleep with me?_ There wasn’t a way. That’s what.

He sighed and the motion caught in his throat and he coughed a bit. He rubbed it absently as he frowned at the uncomfortable scratchiness in his throat and he tried to clear it. Only to wince and cough some more. He paused. _No._

When he looked up Yuuri had a pained sympathy smile.

“I’ll tell Ciao Ciao you won’t be coming to practice for the next few days.”

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: Just wanted to add a link to my [tumblr](https://corgispacesiren.tumblr.com/)
> 
> **EDIT 2:** Lovely commission by Sheilkuroi can be found [here on tumblr](http://sheilkuroi.tumblr.com/post/175252473951/nsfw-commissions-for-corgispacesiren-first-two) and [here on twitter](https://twitter.com/Sheilkuroi/status/1011379357930196994)!


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